


Enchanted

by KilgarraghForever



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, I have no intention to finish this, This is just a start of something I came up with, Why don't you use it as inspiration or something?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28508373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilgarraghForever/pseuds/KilgarraghForever
Summary: Percy and Annabeth having a picnic. A bit off flu- "That sounds really boring, Nara! I'm sure I could come up with something better!" a woman, shrouded in a yellow veil says. She could, but - "Yes, I can, and I'm going to! Hold on!" The summary swirls as the woman waves her hand. This isn't going to end well. "Oh, shush, Nara. It'll be fine!" Gods help us. "They are!" Oh, fu-
Kudos: 1





	Enchanted

Purple smoke bellows from an unknown source in a dark room. There is a single candlestick lit beside the smoke, illuminating it and causing strange shapes to dance in it's shadows. Behind the smoke stands a woman, dressed in a flowing red dress and wearing a yellow veil that obscures her features, held in place by a jewelled circlet. Bracelets adorn her thin wrists, jangling as she circles her hands over the smoke, chanting in a foreign language. Her red nails glisten in the dying light of the candle. Her veil catches on her bracelets and is pulled forward by a sudden forward motion of her hands. She chants something else in the strange language, and the smoke increases tenfold, obscuring everything in the room and snuffing out the meagre light provided by the candle, then disappears as if it were never there. The only indication of its presence was that the candle's flame was now purple, revealing the source of the smoke - a crystal ball, floating in mid-air, the purple smoke swirling angrily inside, as if wanting to be let out, to cover the entire world with its twisting fumes. The woman throws her hands out over it, and her head tilts back until her nose is visible as the fabric of her veil falls onto her face. She shouts something in her language, golden light orbiting her hands, spiking out into the surrounding space. She grasps the crystal ball, and the golden light flows into it, encircling the smoke and striking into it, turning the smoke golden wherever it touches. The woman does not look down until all of the smoke has become gold. She removes her hands and the smoke dissipates into nothing. Then the woman looks up, and visibly jumps. She moves her hand into the darkness, and evidently does something as the entire room lights up in a brilliant burst of light. The woman looks up again, and flicks her veil over her head, revealing her face. She has tanned skin, dotted with freckles. Her blue eyes twinkle with golden light, enchanting any who see them. She smiles, and her entire face seems to radiate that gold light, and she speaks.

"Oh! Hi, sorry, I didn't see you there!" she grins, seemingly talking to thin air. "I'm not talking to thin air, Nara! I'm talking to the reader, idiot."

Despite the obvious fact that the woman is alone in the room, and very much _not_ in a book of any description, she continues nattering away.

"Don't mind Nara, reader, she's just sticky that she can't control what I say," the woman says, then promptly smacks herself in the arm. "Hey!" she shouts, annoyed. "What did you do that for? Anyway, my name's Hecate, and I am a sorceress. I'm also the goddess of magic, and crossroads, but that's not important right now. You're probably here because Nara gave you a description of some story or other that she wanted to write, but seeing as I control what I say, I'm going to make this story one that you'll probably enjoy much more than whatever drivil she's put up," Hectae explains, as duct tape appears over her mouth. She waves an arm, unconcerned, and the tape vanishes. "That was low, Nara." A pencil in front of her begins to write, spelling out a message. "Don't diss my work," Hecate reads, and snorts. "Why not? No matter. I'm sure the readers will like my tale a lot better than yours, anyway. But first! Nara, if you please, I'd like a mystical setting."

The room is suddenly encased in darkness. One by one, flames light themselves, forming a circle around Hecate, who's outfit has changed. Now she wears a midnight blue dress, flared skirts swirling around her ankles. Fine fabric falls from her arms, golden accents glinting in the firelight. Her black hair is bound in a plait, that unravels and lets Hecate's hair fall freely around her uncovered shoulders. The golden light in her once-blue eyes seems to have overtaken them, giving her glowing gold eyes that seem to see everything. Gold magic curls off of her, dancing around her head.

"Thank you, Nara. I must say, this is some of your best work yet," Hecate compliments, admiring her dress. The candles glow dark pink for a few seconds. "Your welcome! Now, where were we?" A green light zips around Hecate's head, then is absorbed into her gold light. She blinks. "Oh! That's right, yeah. I was going to tell you a tale of my own devising. However, this tale is one I remember well, seeing as I was there," she smiles. "It began long ago, in a galaxy far, far away... No, hold on. That's Star Wars. Sorry. _My_ tale begins not so long ago, in a land not so far from here. It begins with a boy, and a girl, and a satyr, in a country known as America, on an island called Long Island, in a place called Camp Half Blood..."


End file.
